Even when you're feeling warm
by mermaidNZ
Summary: One Friday in late September, Steve calls Danny at dawn and says he's taking the day off. - Steve/Danny; angsty, but with a happy ending. - Danny POV. Part 1 of my 'Four seasons in one day' series.


**Rating:** M for sexual content.  
><strong>Warnings:<strong> references to canonical character death and its repercussions; angst, but with a happy ending.  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> up to 1x18, then goes AU; Jenna never arrived, and the events of the final few episodes never happened.

**Author's notes:** This fic is complete but it has a companion piece, 'The temperature could drop away', which shows the same day from Steve's POV. It has now been posted as a separate story.

The title comes from one of my favourite songs, _Four seasons in one day _by Crowded House.

* * *

><p>One Friday in late September, Steve calls Danny at six in the morning and says he's taking the day off.<p>

Rudely awoken from a seriously hot dream, Danny's first instinct is to launch into a diatribe about Steve's many, many faults. But as he shakes off the fog of sleep, he realizes how tight and strained Steve's voice sounds.

"Are you okay?" he asks instead.

"I'm not sick," Steve says, which doesn't exactly answer the question. "I just need some time off. So don't call me unless it's urgent."

Something's clearly wrong, so Danny dredges up the emergency code they'd established. "Uh...pineapple on pizza?"

"Best thing ever," Steve responds, signaling the all-clear. "I'm not being held at gunpoint either, Danny. I just – there are things I have to do today."

"Okay, fine," Danny says, and Steve immediately ends the call. Danny rolls over onto his back, staring at the ceiling.

The naked Steve from his dream, who'd been enthusiastically blowing him, has faded away along with Danny's morning wood. All Danny can think about now is the real Steve, and what the hell is going on with him.

On the drive to work, Danny has the nagging sense that he's missing something. Not just having Steve in the car beside him, but something else. And when he sits down at his desk and glances at the Yankees calendar Grace gave him last Christmas, he suddenly knows what's wrong.

It's been exactly one year since Jack McGarrett was killed.

Danny slumps forward with a groan, head in his hands. _Fuck_. He really should have seen this coming, but the team's insane workload means he often loses track of the date. If it wasn't for his custody arrangements, Danny probably wouldn't know the day of the week half the time.

And now Danny understands why Steve's been acting weirder than usual – mean, short-tempered, and even kinda scary. He came close to punching an HPD Sergeant at a crime scene on Monday (Danny smoothed things over), and reduced one of the CSU lab techs to tears yesterday (Danny bought her flowers).

Steve has fought Danny on every damn thing, this past week or so, in marked contrast to the give-and-take they've developed over the past year. The two of them were perfectly in sync during last Friday's drug raid, though, communicating clearly and trusting each other unhesitatingly even after a nasty argument in the car on the way over.

So the foundation of their partnership is still strong, and Danny has faith that they can recover from this rough patch. He _has_to believe that, because he doesn't even want to consider the alternative.

When the other two arrive at HQ, Danny doesn't mention the significance of the date but doesn't make up an excuse either. "Steve just said he needed a day off," he reports.

"Well, he sure could do with some time to decompress," Chin says. "He's been grumpy as hell lately."

"I hope he's gone surfing. That's what I do to clear my head," Kono says. "Hey, Danny: if we get all our paperwork done today, can we leave early? North Shore's finally got some decent swells, and I want to try out my new board."

They have no time-critical cases at the moment, so Danny shrugs. "Sounds like a plan, if nothing new comes up. We all could use a long weekend, God knows."

"Awesome," Kono says, and goes to tackle the pile of filing on her desk with far more enthusiasm than usual.

Though Danny tries to focus on his own work, his mind keeps straying back to Steve.

He'd thought the two of them had developed a real bond, so Danny's a little hurt that Steve didn't tell him about the anniversary of his father's death. But to be honest, he's not that surprised. Steve still holds everyone at arm's length, even Danny, revealing only fragments of his memories and glimpses of his feelings.

Danny has collected every little piece, stitching them together and storing them away. He wants to solve the puzzle of Steve – he wants to _know_ Steve, inside and out.

Around noon, Danny absent-mindedly adds a few zeroes to the ammo requisition form he's filling out. Thank Christ it wasn't some online purchase that he couldn't undo. The Governor complains enough about their budget overruns; she'd be seriously displeased if Danny started ordering shotgun rounds by the million.

He gives up on achieving anything useful, after that, and declares Five-0 closed for the day.

Kono hurries down the stairs. "Thanks, Danny," she shouts over her shoulder.

Chin comes out of his office and tells Danny, "Actually, I've been meaning to add some new functionality to the computer table, and this seems like the ideal chance. So I'll come back after lunch to install the upgrades. I'll let you guys know if we get a new case, yeah?"

"You are a prince among men, Chin Ho Kelly," Danny says. "Next time we hit a quiet spell, you're first in line for a day off."

"I'll hold you to that," Chin says with a grin, then makes a call as he leaves. "Hi, sweetheart. Can I take you out for lunch? Okay, great. I'll be at the hospital in ten minutes..."

Danny smiles at Chin's retreating back. He and Malia reconciled a few months ago, after his name finally got cleared, and it's like the honeymoon stage all over again. Danny's happy for them, even if it brings into sharp relief everything he wants – but can't have – with Steve.

Once he's the only person left at HQ, Danny looks around. If Steve's father died a year ago, then Five-0's first birthday can't be far away. They should have a party, Danny decides. The four of them have really achieved something together, and somehow they're all still alive. That deserves to be celebrated, if nothing else.

Planning that will be the next thing on Danny's to-do list. Right now, he's going to find Steve.

* * *

><p>Danny does feel guilty about looking for a guy who clearly wanted some time to himself. His gut instinct is insistent, though: nobody should be alone on a day like this. Steve might <em>think <em>he needs the solitude, but he's an emotionally stunted idiot who's afraid to show any weakness. And the evidence of the past week indicates that he's far from rational right now.

The GPS tracking map shows Steve's phone moving away from Oahu's northern coast – looks like Kono was right about the surfing, Danny thinks. But instead of driving south, towards home or HQ, Steve is heading east into the windward mountains.

Is Steve going hiking just for the hell of it, or taking a trip down memory lane? He'd once told Danny that Jack took him to visit some ancient rock art, every year. Steve then suggested that the two of them should head up there sometime, but Danny hadn't been keen and Steve hadn't pushed it.

A few minutes of online research confirms what Danny had remembered from that conversation – the petroglyphs are at the base of a cliff face, half way up a mountain in the Ko'olau state park. Sure enough, a double check of the GPS shows Steve on the access road that leads into the park.

Danny doesn't love the idea of a steep hike in this heat, but he'll do it for Steve's sake. He prints out a map of the state park and drives home, picking up a sandwich and soda on the way. After changing into casual pants and a t-shirt and getting some supplies together, he's off again. By the time he pulls into the parking space next to Steve's truck, Danny reckons he's about an hour behind.

Since even he knows that 'tell someone your intentions' is one of the principles of hiking, Danny calls Chin to say he's about to climb a mountain.

Chin laughs. "Seriously? I thought the wilderness made you break out in hives."

"Yeah, well. You guys are always bugging me to try new things," Danny says, reluctant to explain why he's going.

But when Danny describes the trail he's taking, Chin asks, "So is Steve with you, then? Jack used to take him up to the petroglyphs every year, and –"

He stops, abruptly, and Danny waits for it. "Oh, shit," Chin continues, somber now, "today's the anniversary of his death, isn't it."

"Yeah. Steve's already on the mountain, and I'm going to catch up with him."

"You're a brave man," Chin says. "Good luck, and don't worry: I'll hold the fort here."

Danny's relieved that Chin doesn't try to talk him out of it, and doesn't question his motives either. "Thanks, man."

He climbs steadily for two hours; he's not as fit as Steve, could never hope to be, but Danny's still in good shape. Though he's hot and sweaty, and his feet hurt, Danny has to admit that the scenery up here is stunningly beautiful. Hawaii has slowly grown on him, after eighteen months here.

Danny feels relieved when he approaches the petroglyphs and finds Steve already there. He's facing the rock wall, his back to Danny, sitting cross-legged on the grass with his hands resting on his knees. Danny knew that Steve meditated, but he's never witnessed it for himself. It's strange to see someone so powerful and energetic be so still.

Now he's actually caught up, though, Danny doesn't want to interrupt Steve. First of all, his partner looks like he's found a little of the peace he so desperately needs. And second, given the hair-trigger temper Steve's had recently, startling him could end badly for Danny. Steve's not wearing his holster, but Danny doesn't doubt that he's carrying multiple knives.

So Danny sits down under a tree, a safe distance away. Catching his breath, he pulls off his sneakers and socks with a wince. He's got multiple blisters on each foot, and he stupidly didn't pack any band-aids. Maybe once Steve has quit telling Danny off for following him, he'll do the proper Boy Scout thing and share his first aid supplies.

Danny eats one of the Twinkies he brought, washing it down with water, and stares at the rock drawings over Steve's head. They really are spectacular, their meaning clear even after hundreds of years and every kind of weather. He can see why this ancient site would appeal to the McGarretts, newcomers who had been so keen to put down roots in Hawaii.

Half an hour goes by with Danny hearing nothing but the sounds of the jungle, until he's almost in a trance himself. Maybe there is something to this whole concept of immersing yourself in nature, after all. Danny can't remember the last time he felt so relaxed.

Steve stirs, finally, lifting his arms above his head with an audible sigh before standing up. He turns around as he stretches, and does a double-take when he catches sight of Danny; he must have been meditating very deeply, not to have heard Danny's approach.

When Steve's expression shifts from surprise to fury, Danny braces himself. Three, two, one...

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Steve's voice is painfully loud after all that silence. Blue-winged birds take off from a nearby tree, shrieking their distress.

"I thought you might need some company today," Danny says calmly, not moving.

"If I'd wanted your company, asshole," Steve shouts, "I would've said so."

He strides across the clearing to stand over Danny, arms crossed, body language signaling 'keep out' and 'beware'. Steve's eyes are red-rimmed and bloodshot, his face tear-streaked and paler than usual. Seeing him like this breaks Danny's heart.

"What gives you the right to invade my privacy like this, huh?"

"You did, Steve," Danny says, "by muscling your way into _my _life from day one."

"I never followed you or spied on you," Steve says.

"That's true, and you have every right to be angry," Danny concedes. Though his hands are shaking – this confrontation is going even worse than he'd anticipated – he keeps his voice steady. "But hear me out, okay?"

Steve doesn't change his menacing stance; he just raises one eyebrow, and Danny rapidly marshals his thoughts.

"I came up here because I didn't think you should be alone today," he says. "Just like you didn't think _I_ should be alone last spring, after the clusterfuck with Matt and the drug cartel and all my crazy family drama. Even when I tried to shut you out, even when I acted like a total jerk, you stuck with me all the way. And in the end I was grateful, because what you did was exactly what I needed."

"That's not the same thing," Steve argues.

"No, you're right. What you've experienced is far worse, though you'd rather be tortured than admit it."

Steve just frowns at him, jaw clenched, and Danny keeps going. "I'm sorry that I didn't realize the anniversary was coming up; I could have been more supportive, this past week. But once I figured it out, I wanted to help however I could."

Steve spreads his hands wide. "I didn't ask for your help."

"You wouldn't know how to ask if your hair caught fire and I was standing beside you with a fire hose," Danny points out. "But that won't stop me trying to help anyway, because you're my best friend and I care about you."

And somehow, that's the thing that finally defuses Steve's anger. Like a puppet with its strings cut, Steve sits down heavily in front of Danny. He cradles his face in his hands, eyes closed, and falls silent again.

Danny waits patiently, his heart rate slowing down as the adrenaline rush fades. He tilts his head back and looks at the sky, which is clouding over ominously.

Two multi-colored parrots fly past, one chasing the other – some kind of courtship dance, or a territorial dispute? Gracie would really love all the wildlife up here. Maybe he and Steve could bring her to see the petroglyphs sometime.

"I don't want to talk about my father," Steve says at last, barely audible.

"You don't have to," Danny says, "so long as you realize that you _can_." He stretches one leg out, pressing his toes to Steve's bare ankle to emphasize his point. "You got that?"

Steve swallows hard. "Yeah. Listen, I know I haven't been easy to work with lately..."

He doesn't finish the sentence, but Danny takes the apology as read and moves on. "We're your friends, Steve, not just people you work with. It'll take more than a few days of jackass behavior to scare us off."

"What would it take to scare you off, Danny?" Steve's voice is soft, and he hasn't shrunk back from Danny's touch.

"In twelve months I've been shot at more times than I can remember, and actually been shot three times. You've crashed my car twice, and there have been way too many explosions for my liking. Also, I just spent my afternoon off walking up a fucking mountain, and got yelled at for my trouble." Shrugging, Danny says, "And yet I'm still here. Looks like you're stuck with me, babe, for better or for worse."

* * *

><p>It starts to rain, then, one of those instant torrential downpours that Hawaii specializes in.<p>

"Come on," Steve says, getting to his feet and pulling Danny up. "We can wait it out under the overhang."

Danny hurriedly shoves his sneakers on, picks up his stuff, and follows Steve. Further along the rock face from the petroglyphs, there's a hollow under a protruding ledge. It's not deep enough to be a cave, but it's big enough to keep them both dry if they sit side-by-side.

Since Danny has months of experience at controlling himself around Steve, he can deal with enforced close proximity for a while. They've been trapped in worse places together, after all.

The way Steve led Danny straight here suggests he's used this shelter before, and his next words confirm that.

"I got stuck here with Dad, the summer I was eleven," Steve says loudly, to make himself heard over the pounding rain. "It was a big storm, so we were here for several hours. He told me stories about growing up on the mainland – he and Mom were from Iowa, originally. All those wide open spaces, with no mountains or beaches, sounded so _weird_ to me."

"How did the two of them meet?" Danny asks. Steve talks about Jack sometimes, but rarely about his long-dead mother. Danny only learned her name, Susan, from the HPD file about her murder.

"High school sweethearts. The old cliché," Steve says.

Danny nods encouragingly. "So how did they end up in Hawaii?"

"Dad's ship used to stop off at Pearl Harbor for refueling and R&R. To start with, he was just interested to see the place where my grandfather was killed. But he ended up falling in love with the whole island. So when Dad went home after the war and became a cop, he kept asking the brass for a transfer. HPD finally offered him a job when I was a little kid, and we moved out here."

What a fucked-up family tradition, Danny thinks: being drawn back to the site of your father's violent death, and choosing to stay. He wonders if Steve has even noticed the pattern.

"After your mother passed, did you go back to Iowa?"

"Mary did. She lived with our grandma in Des Moines until she graduated high school, then ran straight to LA. Mom's parents had retired to Florida, so I was sent there. I hated it, but at least I still had the ocean."

Steve stares out at the rain, pensive, while Danny slots these pieces into his Steve-shaped puzzle. This is the most he's ever heard about that awful period in Steve's life, when he lost his mother, his home, and effectively his father and sister too.

It's so fucking tragic, but Danny knows that an expression of sympathy won't do any good. Instead, he says, "I grew up pretty close to the ocean, but I never really liked it much. When my family went down the Shore for summer vacations, I'd always ask to go visit my aunt in the Bronx instead."

"The Bronx was more exciting than the beach?" Steve pulls a couple of granola bars from his rucksack, and passes one to Danny.

"No, but Manhattan was," Danny explains between bites. "Getting to ride the subway and watch all those people...it never got boring. And I'd wander around the city for hours, looking up at the buildings."

The memory of all that walking as a kid reminds Danny about the blisters he got today. "Hey, you got any band-aids with you?"

Steve glances down at Danny's sneakers. "You need some proper hiking boots," he says, digging in his rucksack again and – as anticipated – handing Danny a small med kit.

"Unlike you, I don't run up mountains for fun," Danny says, yanking his shoes off. "No point wasting money on something I'll hardly ever use."

Danny pulls his knees to his chest and bandages both heels easily enough, but from this angle he can't reach the last two blisters. So he pretzels himself up, left foot propped on his right knee, left knee pressed against Steve's chest.

"Sorry," Danny says as he wraps a band-aid around his little toe. "I know you're big on personal boundaries and all, but there's not a lot of room to move in here."

"It's okay." Steve is watching Danny's hands intently. "Being your partner has kind of shattered my personal space bubble."

Danny grins at that, but...Christ, he wishes that Steve's psychological walls were so easy to break down. After a year together, he still has no clue if Steve likes guys in general, let alone Danny in particular. Making a move could be a fucking brilliant idea, or it could be an epic catastrophe that ends their partnership.

Unwilling to take that risk, Danny's been stuck in limbo for months.

He pushes the bleak thought down and rearranges his limbs, stopping when he realizes that bandaging the ball of his right foot will pretty much mean shoving his toes in Steve's face. Steve just leans back against the cliff, and gestures for Danny to go ahead.

Danny's right knee refuses to co-operate, unfortunately. His old ACL injury means he simply can't contort it like that anymore. He winces and straightens it again, resigned to a slow painful walk down the mountain once the rain stops.

"No, wait," Steve says. "Twist round to face me, and give me your foot. I'll do it for you."

Danny blinks at him, but Steve just looks back expectantly. So he moves as best he can in the confined space, angling his hips towards Steve. He folds his left leg under, and lays his right leg across Steve's thighs.

It's a weirdly intimate position, and Danny can't help shivering slightly when Steve applies the band-aid to his sole: his feet have always been a hot zone for him. Steve must notice the reaction, the way they're pressed together, but hopefully he puts it down to Danny being ticklish.

Steve's done his doctoring, but he doesn't let go. His big hands cradle Danny's foot, warmth permeating the chilled skin, and Danny's heart beats a little faster.

"I'm sorry for earlier," Steve says abruptly, not meeting Danny's eyes. "This has been a rough day for me – a rough year, really – but you've done a lot to make things better. So, uh, I wanted to thank you for that."

"I...no problem, Steve," Danny says, surprised and moved. He'd have guessed that was true, but never expected to hear Steve say it out loud. "I should thank you too, actually."

Steve glances at him, then. "For the stuff with your brother, you mean?"

"Yeah, but not just that. You gave me a job I love, and you've helped me adjust to Hawaii."

"Really?" Steve raises one eyebrow. "You complain all the damn time, about the work and about the island."

"I do not," Danny says automatically, and then shrugs. "Anyway, you're the strong silent type. If I didn't talk, I think the raging quiet would hurt my ears."

"That makes no sense," Steve argues.

"Whatever. The point is: despite all the insanity I'm subjected to on a daily basis, you're the best partner I've ever had."

Steve studies him closely, and Danny's suddenly afraid of what his face might give away. He drops his gaze to Steve's hands. His thumb is rubbing tiny circles on Danny's ankle, sending heat radiating out across his skin. Does Steve even know he's doing it?

This conversation is getting dangerous – fuck, this whole situation is. Danny wishes they could get out of here and retreat to their assigned places: two straight lines, traveling in close parallel but destined never to cross.

* * *

><p>"You know, I served with my SEAL Team for years," Steve says after a minute, his voice low. Danny has to lean forward, to hear him over the rain. "Mission after mission, we lived and fought side-by-side. But in some ways, you know me better than any of those guys. I trusted them to have my back...I trust <em>you<em> with the stuff in my head."

That's quite a compliment, Danny thinks, blinking up at Steve. It also shows just how strong Steve's mental defenses are. Even if he's been trying to relax his guard a little and let Danny in, he's still withholding so many pieces of himself.

Suddenly, Danny wants to put Steve's supposed trust in him to the test. "Wow, okay. So if I ask you a really personal question, just one, will you answer it?"

"Try me and see," Steve says.

Danny's never going to get a better opening than this, and at least a definitive 'no' would help him move on. He takes a deep breath, and takes a risk. "Are you attracted to men?"

There's no reaction visible on Steve's face, but his fingers briefly tighten against Danny's skin. He looks straight at Danny and says, "Yes."

Getting a reply at all surprises Danny; getting exactly the answer he wanted to hear is one hell of a shock. Since Steve ended things with Cath, six months back, Danny has only ever seen him turn on the charm for women. But Danny can understand why a career military man would be deeply closeted, even though DADT is now history.

"Oh," is all Danny can say, after a few seconds' silence.

His reaction must give something away, though, because Steve's smiling as he says, "What about you?"

Honesty deserves a reward, and it's turned out to be a good day for risk taking. So Danny says, "Yeah. I mean, I've never been with a guy, but I think about it a lot."

Steve's eyes widen, and he licks his lips. _Oh_, Danny thinks, his gaze drawn to Steve's mouth. He doesn't know what to say, now, and evidently his partner doesn't either.

"Danny, can I – I mean, do you want to...ah, hell." Steve blows out his breath in frustration.

Emotionally stunted and inarticulate Steve is familiar, is something Danny knows how to handle, and he finds his words again.

"Well, okay," Danny says, "let's take stock here. You've still got your hands wrapped around my bare foot, for no apparent reason. Have you got some weird obsession with feet I don't know about?"

One side of Steve's mouth quirks up. "No, but I do like touching you." And he strokes his fingertips along the arch from toe to heel, and back again.

Danny shudders at the tingling sensation, which goes straight to his cock. "Yeah, and I like you doing it," he says, voice uneven. "I'd say the signs of mutual interest are pretty strong, all in all. So maybe we could skip the awkward declarations, and get to the fun part?"

That little half-smile grows until Steve looks truly happy, for the first time in – in a year, actually. Danny has no time to process exactly what the expression means, now; he just stores it away, and reaches over to kiss Steve.

He cups Steve's face with one hand and starts off gentle, tentative, his thumb tracing the wide curve of Steve's mouth. Danny licks his way inside, shivering when Steve's tongue touches his. Steve moans quietly as Danny sucks at his lower lip, and starts kissing him back – still slow and sweet, but so fucking intense.

Danny is grateful that Steve, usually such a control freak, lets him lead. It's been months since he kissed a woman and he's gone a lifetime without kissing a man, so he wants to savor this. Danny can't quite believe it's happening at last, let alone with the only guy he's ever truly fallen for.

He can't believe how hard he is, just from this.

Breathless, Danny pulls back. Sitting side-by-side makes for an uncomfortable kissing angle, and Danny's neck is aching. "Okay, wait. This is _good_, this is really good, but let's find a position where we can make out without dislocating anything or getting rained on."

Steve lets go of Danny's foot at last, with apparent reluctance. "Well, you could sit on my legs. If I put some padding down, can your knee handle it?"

"For a while, yeah." Danny laughs when Steve pulls a warm sweater and some sweatpants out of his rucksack. "You packed cold weather gear, seriously? It was like ninety degrees when you set out."

"A SEAL always prepares for the worst," Steve informs him, folding the garments into rectangles and placing one either side of him. "And your knee will thank me, even if you don't."

Danny straddles Steve's thighs and yeah, okay, that is actually quite comfortable. He grins at Steve and leans forward to kiss him again, more boldly this time, and Steve just opens up to him. Danny keeps one hand on Steve's cheek, cupping the nape of his neck with the other. Steve links his arms around Danny's waist and pulls him closer.

Kissing Steve makes Danny feel lit up from the inside – like a lightning bolt hit him and he didn't even notice. All his senses are heightened, with small details pressing for his attention. Steve's stubble, still damp from the rain, is rough under his fingertips; Steve's skin has a salty tang, mingling with the lush scent of the jungle vegetation; Steve's lips are a little cold, but the inside of his mouth is deliciously warm.

Steve is Rachel's polar opposite. He's bigger than Danny, stronger too, every inch of his body unyieldingly hard. Danny could test that theory if he shifted forward a little and pressed his hips down. And God, he _wants _to. But he's so turned on that he'd probably come in his pants as soon as Steve's cock touched his...and walking down the mountain would be even less fun, after that.

Anyway, Danny would rather do this for the first time in a bed – Steve's bed, ideally – and he can hold out 'til then. He's pretty damn sure that Steve will be worth the wait.

Danny breaks away from Steve's mouth, and presses a row of kisses along his jawline.

Steve glances over Danny's head and says, "It looks like the rain has stopped. It'll be dark in a couple of hours, so we should start walking down now."

"Sure. I'm kind of keen to get off this mountain and get to your place, if that's okay with you," Danny murmurs against Steve's neck.

"Very okay," Steve says, his breath hitching. After a moment's silence, he adds, "But I just have to do one more thing today – make one last stop before going home."

Oh hell, Danny thinks, forcibly reminded of the reason they're up here in the first place. "You're going to visit your dad, huh?"

"Yeah," Steve says, "but you don't have to come. You could meet me at the house later, if you like."

Danny pulls back, and meets his gaze. "Hey, listen. If you don't want me there at the cemetery, that's totally okay. But if you do, you just have to ask."

Steve leans forward, and presses his forehead to Danny's. Danny waits: five seconds, ten, fifteen.

Then Steve clears his throat and says, very quietly, "Please come with me?"

Danny kisses him softly. "Yeah, babe, 'course I will. C'mon, we're burning daylight."


End file.
